


let loose

by odayaka



Category: Gugudan (Band)
Genre: F/F, Light BDSM, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 04:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10846542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odayaka/pseuds/odayaka
Summary: "Beg for it."





	let loose

**Author's Note:**

> first of all i'd like to apologize to my parents for writing this

 

Nayoung found the hotel the day before on some sketchy trip advisor website with dubious promotional discount offers littering the homepage. The room they booked wasn’t in any of the promo, but the price was adequately cheap enough for a two-star room with glitchy lighting, washed up wallpaper, and ghost stories rooted in ghastly bunches around the corners. Still, this was never a field trip to begin with.

This routine where they sneak out of their dorm in the dead of the night clad in the most civilian outfit possible, integrating with the blur of nightly-goers of Seoul, and huddling into a cheap love hotel room is a secret they share (though at this point, their managers have probably sniffed their tracks). It’s never intended to be a romantic hook-up spot. There’s nothing romantic about them renting a love hotel room under random pseudonyms Sejeong plucked out of thin air fifteen minutes before the book.

Sejeong agrees that this is far from her top list of soundest judgement she’s made in life. Still, Sejeong disagrees that the whole act is something she could just inherently weed out of her weekly to-do lists.

_To vent out_ – she said, the first time she suggested it to Nayoung. Back then, in the safety confine of the dorm’s bathroom, Sejeong thought Nayoung would just roll her eyes at the plan.

Her accomplice then said the “ _sure_ ” in the surest manner. It was unreal. Nayoung was a goody-two-shoes who doubled as the worst liar. (Since to this day any of the gossip media outlet haven’t caught up to their trails, maybe Nayoung’s no longer the worst.)

Their first run from the residential high-rises of Gangnam had them on jittery toes the whole time.

During the second run, Nayoung had mental gymnastics where she pondered over their sneaking act. Sejeong silenced her with a furious make out session.

They made it into a routine a little bit too fast. It’s gotten to the point where they’re sneaking out for a round fully knowing that it’s two days away from their scheduled music video release, three days until the much nerve-racking comeback showcase. The dependency gnaws at Sejeong’s own conscience. _This isn’t how things are supposed to be_.

Not that she’s able to mull over it further. Not when she’s dead naked in a sketchy hotel room with sketchier mirror walling the space above the bed’s headboard, probably installed there for the absolute sketchiest purposes with its share of target demography.

Not when Nayoung shoves her face first onto the bed. And she’s disrobed to boot.

The air torrents cold kisses on her bare back and it makes her shudder. Said shudder swerves fast into something part gasp, part guttural moan as she feels Nayoung’s (very much clothed) body rippling against her skin, Nayoung’s hand clawing a firm grip on her hip, and Nayoung’s breath against her sizzling right ear. “The first time you asked me to get on top of you, I thought there was gonna be a prank somewhere. I thought you were going to flip me over and pants me. And maybe film it for a blackmail material. Wouldn’t put that past you.”

When Nayoung’s hand begins to travel north up to her side, Nayoung’s thumb leaving grazes that nick all the shudders out of her, Sejeong struggles to make her words at the very least worded out properly, “Save it for the after sex talk—nggh,”

Sejeong force-buries her face into the pillow to muffle the humiliating whine she couldn’t contain, feeling Nayoung scavenging her neck as if deprived. At every suck on her reddening skin, Sejeong struggles to mute her whines even more.

The ante’s upped the moment Nayoung’s hand suddenly steers south, knuckles sweeping feather-light along her spines. Sejeong’s toes curl the moment Nayoung grabs a handful of her rear.

Sejeong’s entire body tenses the moment Nayoung dips a couple of fingers to the skin of her inner thigh. Sejeong’s back arches when Nayoung pulls her body up for a second before dipping in low once again to rain bites on the upper side of her back.

Gripping hard on the pillow couldn’t subside the intense want in her anymore. “Nayoungggg,”

Nayoung’s voice is an octave lower, lips moving against her very much flushed back, “God, Sejeong,” she parrots, Sejeong notices a glint of amusement in her words, “you’re gonna hate me, the marks look so ugly,”

At the guilt trickling down Nayoung’s words, Sejeong lets the side of her head sink into the pillow as she side-eyes the other woman. “Darling, cosmetics were invented sometime in 3000 BC.”

“Hana will rain hell on me.”

“She rains hell on everyone.”

Nayoung hums in agreement, “True,” and goes out of Sejeong’s field of vision.

Enamored by her newfound intimacy with the pillow, Sejeong doesn’t bother to bring her head up and opts to voice out her impatience instead. “Don’t get me wrong, the kisses got me into the mood and we still have the whole night to ourselves and all but I _think_ it’s about time for you to fuck me—“ she’s stopped by the stinging pain directed at her ass, “—ahh, oh _god_ ,”

Nayoung’s weight on her back, Nayoung’s hand having a firm grapple on her ass, Nayoung’s voice emphasized with frustration… “You said that I _am_ the one in charge when we’re doing this.”

“Yes, god, fuck,” Sejeong’s head rolls in response to Nayoung’s teeth scraping against her shoulder.

“I get to choose whether I want to fuck you or not.” Nayoung’s breath ghosts over her jawline. “Tonight, you’re stripped off all the glitters. Under me, you’re no longer the next South Korea’s First Love Kim Sejeong.”

Sejeong’s breathe hitches when Nayoung presses her lips on her cheek.

“When you’re with me, you’re just—Sejeong, get it? That’s the whole point of _this_ … right?”

Sejeong wouldn’t dare to squander a no. “Yes,”

“Good,” the arousal in Nayoung’s voice returns and Sejeong’s amazed at how at ease Nayoung seems to be, “now turn around. Lie on your back.”

She doesn’t immediately follow Nayoung’s demand. “What?”

And she’s quickly rewarded Nayoung’s palm crackling her ass with a sharp spank.

And another.

Sejeong hates the fact that she actually finds it _pleasuring_.

Then, she feels her head getting slightly propped back as Nayoung pulls a fistful of the hair’s roots. “I asked nicely. I _did_ and you failed me.”

“S, sorry,” the apology tastes weird when it’s rolled off her tongue.

“I get that you want me to fuck you senseless already,” Nayoung tightens her pull and Sejeong feels herself getting closer to losing it for real, “but _baby_ , you’ll have to play by _my_ rules. I’ll give it to you when I think you deserve it. Have some self-control.”

Sejeong can’t find it in her to bark back as much as she wants to.

Partly to get into the roles.

Nayoung lets go of her hold and tears their bodies off by pulling herself up, propped by her two arms. “On your back.”

She scrambles to follow through the demand, breathing getting heavier once the self-consciousness kicks in the moment she realizes how bared she is in front of Nayoung even though it’s hardly the first time. Maybe it’s the way she’s greeted with Nayoung’s lopsided smile above her. Maybe it’s the roles she herself put themselves in.

Sejeong watches her scuffle out of her pants and picks up muttered curses and breathy groan-whines. She’s always liked that pair of jeans on Nayoung, but she’s always thought about how they’re even better _off_. She takes the time to marvel at the way Nayoung’s sharp nose is tinted something reddish, spread along her face, and she’s slapped with the realization that Nayoung is very much aroused.

She keeps the smile to herself, though.

Once the pants are rid of and blindly thrown into the floor, Nayoung drifts a leg to one side, effectively trapping Sejeong under her.

“Get me off, Sejeong.”

“ _Really_?” Sejeong doesn’t even bother to hide the frustration dripping from her balk.

Nayoung lowers her body, her core slick against Sejeong’s impatiently taut stomach. Her hands abruptly shot up to Sejeong’s face, grappling it with some force put into it, squeezing her cheeks slightly earning a gasp from Sejeong. “This is all your fault I’m feeling this bothered. Get me off and I’ll _consider_ fucking the brains out of you.”

Nayoung’s hands travel to the side of her head, lurking into her much messed hair. Sejeong takes the cue to shoot back, donning a smirk that she knows will piss the fuck out of _this_ Nayoung, “I don’t make deals with the devil.”

_This_ Nayoung, who’s definitely verily into her character.

The Nayoung who pushes her head back to the bed and drags her core up until it hovers just above Sejeong’s face. The Nayoung who tells her in a voice that’s impossible for her to deny, “Do your work. Show me how much of a bitch you can be.”

Sejeong shudders at the nick, lifts her head off the bed very slightly, and pokes out a hesitant tongue. She draws a short stroke, a longer one, and before long, she has her hands around Nayoung’s hips as she tastes, laps up, and sucks on Nayoung’s heat while the latter gyrates against her face.

“Fuck, Sejeong—mmm, oh god,” Nayoung’s low moans get her to work faster, _faster_ as she feels the fire in her threaten to swallow her whole, “Sejeong, ohhh, you’re so—”

As much as she’s seeking pressures on her own clit, Sejeong’s dead-set on giving Nayoung what she wants first.

Because Nayoung told her to.

Her tongue-work is sloppy at best, but she couldn’t care less when Nayoung’s writhing above her. She couldn’t multi-task listening to the way Nayoung gruffs her name under her breath _and_ tongue-fucking her properly, but she’s sure the older girl’s close from the way her rhythm’s gone erratic and the drawled low moans. _The_ drawled low moans.

Nayoung’s hand latches onto her head, taking a fistful of hair, as her voice rises and hikes to hit all the notes and it’s soon preceded by long, heaved breaths. All the while Sejeong is busied by the liquid Nayoung gushed from the orgasm.

The kisses, bites, and now the licking she’s invested on Nayoung. Sejeong’s sure a rough pounding could send her up cloud nine.

“Nayoung, fuck me already, god,”

“I just got off. Gimme a sec.”

Not when she’s too horny to comply. “Nayoung!”

From above her, Nayoung eyes her with the expression of something unreadable. Sejeong half-dreads, half-anticipates, and it shows through the way she subconsciously squirms under her gaze. “Sejeong, honestly? You have no say in the proceeding. I main all the do’s.”

“You, said that you’ll consider—“

“Beg for it.”

“Oh god,”

“I’m no god,”

“Fuck, Nayoung, hurry,”

“That’s hardly a beg.”

Sejeong grows even more restless. If it’s not for Nayoung sitting between her spread legs, she would’ve rubbed her thighs madly by now, just to ease the hunger in her.

She knows Nayoung is just doing all this for her, and she appreciates how deep Nayoung’s willing to take the role-playing with her.

Maybe she does enjoy the role.

Maybe it really is her own way to vent out. It comforts her to know that it’s never a solo but a tango.

With her teeth tightly gritted, “Please,”

Nayoung’s somehow busy with her hands and eyes rummaging through the dresser beside the bed. “Please _what_?”

“Please fuck me,” she squeezes her eyes shut when staring at the ceiling couldn’t give her much comfort anymore, “do me as you like, _god_ , just get on it,”

“Good girl.”

Sejeong’s eyes shoot open and her sight focuses into Nayoung, fumbling with a strap-on (folded brows, too-focused glare, not-too-crafty fingers evident of tremor), with her teeth busy holding up faux leather belt. She isn’t sure whether she should focus on the strap-on _or_ the belt, or Nayoung having her hands (and teeth) on _both_.

When the strap-on is strapped on and her hands are freed, Nayoung moves the belt to her hands and slides her palm along its surface (and the harmful-harmless act makes Sejeong imagines _things_ ), “What are you thinking about?”

Sejeong chooses to tear her gaze off Nayoung. The ceiling will definitely keep her sane. “Well, things.”

“Sejeong?”

_What now?_ “Yeah?”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

The black spots on the ceiling begin to form patterns as she stares at them some more. “Very much so.”

“Okay, good—“

“Are _you_?”

A pause follows her question and Sejeong lightly chews on her bottom lip. Even though she knows Nayoung doesn’t have the capacity to sputter a _no_.

“I am. I did agree to this, didn’t I?” Nayoung chuckles a bit. “Now, moving onto your reward for being so compliant...”

“Oh, fucking finally.” She subconsciously thrusts her chest outward. Or semi-subconsciously.

“On your back.”

Sejeong doesn’t have much patience left within her, so she complies with whatever Nayoung has in store for her. The shocker is the part where Nayoung puts the belt loosely around her neck.

“Nayoung, honey?”

Sejeong feels Nayoung’s body hovering closely just above hers, a whisper weighted in arousal then follows, “Trust me, okay? I got it down to the steps, I saw the manuals for this,” then she hears some shuffling from behind and a couple of soft clicks. Nayoung has probably artfully finished her sloppy work, judging by the looseness hanging around her neck.

“It’s still too loose,”

“Death by asphyxation will land you in the front page. We’ll headline.”

Sejeong slips a hand under her to nab a thumb at the belt. “So you really brushed up on Bondage 101.”

“I don’t want to murder the nation’s first love.”

“That’s Bae Suzy. Doubt you could pass JYP’s stronghold defense.”

“She’s long dethroned. Jellyfish don’t have the luxury of competent bodyguards.”

Sejeong chooses to drop the topic entirely. “Hey, it’s getting cold,” she lies at the warmth entrapped between her back and Nayoung’s front.

The warmth’s soon sapped away from her and it tells her that Nayoung has pulled herself away. Before she could turn around to ask Nayoung what she’s up to next (and why she’s taking so long for the actual fucking), she’s halted by the firm tug at the belt. The pull gets her to her hands and knees and she makes a choked noise at the wake of the tug, soon it descends into a drawled mewl.

It turns into a shudder the moment she feels the smooth surface nuzzled against her core. The coldness of Nayoung’s fake appendage contrasts the fire alight within herself.

“Did you like the pull?”

Sejeong grits her teeth.

“Yes—oh, it got me on edge,”

“Do you want me inside you?”

“Fuck, _yes_ , Nayoung,” she practically _pleads_ , never mind the fact that the dick is anatomically never Nayoung’s.

It slides in almost too easily and it scares Sejeong with the realization of how _wet_ she is. When she moves in erratic swings, Sejeong knows she’s going to lose it in minutes. If Nayoung would even allow her, that is.

Between the thrusts, the low cooing, and the occasional tugs at her makeshift collar, Sejeong finds it hard to multi-task her focus on them all. Her hips sway haphazardly as she loses more and more control of herself. As all she could think about is Nayoung above her, Nayoung around her neck, Nayoung inside her...

Nayoung’s voice is thick, raspy, and seductive altogether. Like aphrodisiac, in solid. “Are you close?”

“Yes—mmgnh, yes, _yes_ ,” Sejeong fears her grip might ruin the sheet at this rate, “let me come—ohh, _Nayoung_!”

The tug is far harsher this time and she follows through the pull, her elbows coming off the bed as she’s forced to sit up on her knees. The belt chafes against her neck, but that is the least of her concerns.

Above the headboard, reflected in the mirror-wall is herself, practically red all over in a scandalous mixture of heat and shame, skin bared and flush, belt around her neck telling of ownership, then there’s Nayoung behind her, fully clothed above the waist, in complete control of herself.

Thankfully, her own reflection is cut at the waist. She dares not to see the mess she’s made at her thighs.

“Sejeong,” Nayoung starts, her name articulated slowly, “are you looking at yourself?”

“Un, fortunately,” she manages to gasp out.

“Good.” Nayoung’s mouth ghosts to her shoulder. “Don’t take your eyes off it.”

“No— _ngggh_ ,” Sejeong throws her head back as her hips are forced to rock through Nayoung’s deep thrust. On top of letting all the muscles in her body tighten as a knee-jerk response to Nayoung’s assault on her shoulders. The bites and suckles hike up to her neck and Sejeong lets loose the moan she’s been holding.

Nayoung pulls away from her neck. One of her hands roam onto her torso, touches coarse. The way Nayoung roughly handles her somehow only sets her off even harder. It makes her brutally turned on.

“You _really_ like it when I’m being rough with you?”

If only Nayoung doesn’t know _that_. Her body strains under Nayoung’s relentless assault, especially the way her palm manhandles her pulsating breast.

“Sejeong, you ever think about,” Nayoung catches a breath as her thrusts slow down into a long arch, “about—what would those people say if they ever find out about _this_?”

Sejeong’s breath hitches at that.

“That, that the girl next door Kim Sejeong? The sweet, silver-tongued rising star with squeak clean record is actually a huge _slut_ in bed,”

She tries to screw her eyes shut to focus on the torturous pleasure overcoming her senses, to block out any mental images of something she fears the most. The public knowing this shameful side of her.

Yet any attempt to close her eyes is thwarted by her own _conscience_. That’s not what Nayoung told her to do.

Nayoung’s hand scrambles lower towards her core, past her strained abdomen. At the move, Sejeong unwillingly responds by arching her back further, and only a frustrated groan comes out.

“Sejeong,” Nayoung sounds breathier than ever now, “you can come, under some conditions,”

“T-tell me, please,”

Nayoung hand prowls onto her core, a finger grazing against her swollen clit. Sejeong writhes and trashes about, ignoring Nayoung’s attempt to subdue her by the belt-leash. “When you come, I want you to look at yourself. Look at you – the _real_ you, the you who would beg your ass just to be able to come,”

“Okay, okay, ohh,”

“Say my name. Tell me that this Sejeong is mine and only,”

In the mirror is Kim Sejeong while also simultaneously not being Kim Sejeong. It’s getting harder to distinguish the two these days – the Kim Sejeong that exists to sing and make sure her mom’s all smiles at all times, and the Kim Sejeong that panders to the thousand eyes on her. Tonight, she’s passed control over herself to someone she trusts the most, so at least _tonight_ , she gets to be herself while also simultaneously not being herself.

Not that she’s given any much chance to mull things over.

“Nayoung, _oh god_ , Nayoung, fuck, _I love you_ —“ she cries aloud as the wind’s knocked out of her heaving lungs, as the stars along with the universe unravel themselves before her eyes, as her mind’s brought into her all-time high, as Nayoung kisses showers bruising kisses along her jawline with teeth grazing her skin raw, as Nayoung sheats herself deep within her, as Nayoung gives her leash a final pull from behind, as Nayoung blindsides with her the harsh flick to her nub, as Nayoung powers her into a mind-numbing orgasm.

It lasts longer than usual. Sejeong thinks it might pound her into a black-out this time.

Her body slackens as her cry dries up in her throat and the high subsides a little. Nayoung’s arms are quick to wrap around herself.

“It’s okay, Sejeong... I got you.”

She takes it as the green light she’s looking for as her knees give up on her. Nayoung helps her unfolds her legs, letting them sprawl messily among the crumpled sheet into a much more comfortable position. “Oh... Nayoung,”

The belt comes off next. Nayoung’s arms are quick to wrap themselves around her back, though. “How was it?”

“Can’t talk. Am dead.”

Nayoung’s laugh rumbles against her shoulder.

“Nayoung, I’m all sweaty and disgusting.”

“And...?”

Sejeong can’t help the smile even though her body wants nothing but inactivity. “That’s your cue to get away from me. Though I appreciate the aftercare.”

“Mmmm. Do you want to doze off?”

“I’m tired, but,” she sinks deeper into Nayoung’s hold, nuzzling her head against Nayoung’s chin, “I don’t know. I want to sleep but I also want to talk to you some more.”

“We can talk some more. At least until it’s already time to sneak back into the dorm.”

There’s something that’s been bugging her for days – especially during their nightly trips. Usually forgotten by the time Nayoung got her to her sweet spasms, or vice versa.

“Nayoung?” She rolls her head a bit, intending to have a good look at Nayoung’s silver dollar round eyes looking back at her. “How long are we going to do this?”

“I don’t know,” her answer sounds too sure, “I’m no rule-breaker, but I guess I can afford a few more escape trips. So long as you’re happy.”

Sejeong sighs. The future looks murky as expected. Still, she finds solace in the sloppy kiss she shares with Nayoung. It’s developed into something much more than their way of venting out. It’s almost her own coping mechanism after going through days as one of those Kim Sejeongs she’s made up along the way.

As her consciousness leaves her bit by bit, she hears Nayoung whispers all her _i love you_ ’s into the top of her head. That night, she doesn’t dream.


End file.
